


Many Happy Returns

by lilinas



Series: Sebastian's Bitch [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Dom Sebastian, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sub Kurt, you guys know what I'm all about by now!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilinas/pseuds/lilinas
Summary: It's Sebastian's birthday, but this year he wants to do the giving. The only question is whether Kurt can survive long enough to receive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting a new little multi-chapter in the Bitch 'verse! This one won't be too long (but I'm not sure how long yet), and as usual with me there's no posting schedule, although I hope to run around weekly. Apparently some of you want to see Kurt get a chance to really come once in a while. I don't UNDERSTAND you, but since I love all my readers, this one's for you. :)

“Well. Happy birthday to me.”

Sebastian leaned in the doorway between the hall and the front rooms, and even with the length of the living room and kitchen between them he could see Kurt’s ass cheeks clench at the unexpected sound of his voice. It was the only reaction, of course, because Kurt was a master of self-control, but it was enough to get Sebastian’s cock stirring.

“I thought you ordered breakfast in bed?” Kurt asked. His hands were steady as could be as he peeled satsumas, and no one but Sebastian would have noticed how his voice wobbled when he said _ordered_.

“I did,” Sebastian said as he pushed himself away from the doorjamb and sauntered across the room, slow as a stalking tiger. “But then I thought about you out here, in this apron, and, well, it’s my birthday. I get to do what I want.”

Despite his best efforts, Kurt’s hands fumbled then stilled as Sebastian got closer. “You do that every day,” he said, and the breathless quaver was exponentially more pronounced.

This – this trembling anticipation brought on by his mere presence – was the reason Sebastian kept Kurt as intensely frustrated as he did. Well, this and the fact that watching Kurt suffer was insanely hot.

When he was close enough to touch, Sebastian reached out and plucked the ends of the bow knot around Kurt’s waist. Untied, the butcher’s apron hung loose from Kurt’s neck, swinging gently. Kurt’s hands pressed flat against the counter and twitches skittered across the muscles of his back as he anticipated a touch that didn’t come.

“That’s why it’s awesome to be me.” Sebastian finally stepped closer, until his naked front pressed against Kurt’s naked back, and savored the gasp Kurt wasn’t quite able to suppress as his master’s hard cock settled into the crease of his ass. Sebastian slipped his hands around Kurt’s waist and up his chest under the apron until he reached Kurt’s nipples – already sharply erect – and thumbed over them with a gentleness he rarely showed. Kurt’s breath was back under his control, but he couldn’t hide his trembling as Sebastian’s fingers teased him.

“Horny?” Sebastian whispered into Kurt’s ear.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” Kurt retorted.

Sebastian pinched hard, until a tiny, strangled sound forced its way past Kurt’s self-control. “Don’t be smart, bitch. It’s my birthday.” He loosened his grip on Kurt’s nipple, but rolled it between his finger and thumb, a warning against any further sarcasm.

“Of course I’m horny,” Kurt said, voice tight with – well, horniness – and his ever-present resistance to being forced to bend to Sebastian’s will. “I’m always horny. That’s how you like me.”

Sebastian tightened his grip on both nipples. “That’s how . . . what?” he growled.

Kurt’s body stiffened, but only for a moment, then he sagged in surrender, leaning on his hands, his head dropping forward over the counter. “That’s how I like me,” he said in a voice so soft that inches away Sebastian could barely hear him.

Sebastian decided to forgive the lack of volume. It was his birthday; he could afford to be generous. He flattened his hands and caressed up and down Kurt’s torso. “That’s my good bitch,” he crooned. “And you know what? You’re kind of right.”

“About what?”

Sebastian could sense Kurt trying not to fall back into his embrace and he smiled at the back of Kurt’s neck and kept stroking, enjoying the feeling of Kurt’s lean muscle under his fingers. He wiggled his hips to seat his cock deeper between Kurt’s ass cheeks. It was like he’d flipped a switch; Kurt sighed a gentle whine and leaned back, letting his head fall onto Sebastian’s shoulder and moaning when Sebastian’s dick swelled against his ass in response.

“You were right about me getting my way even when it’s not my birthday. I woke up thinking the exact same thing. It was really fucking strange.”

“It was?” Kurt was all in now, Sebastian could feel it in the heavy rise and fall of the chest under his stroking palms, and in the way Kurt’s head lolled sideways on his shoulder, so that his breath warmed the skin of Sebastian’s neck.

“I’ve never really had a feeling like that.”

“Feeling?”

“Hmm,” Sebastian breathed. He let his hands drop lower, sliding into the crease of Kurt’s groin but careful not to touch the cage that he was sure must be rocking gently as Kurt’s trapped cock throbbed. “I woke up thinking . . . yes, it’s my birthday. But I have you to do my bidding every day. Maybe today I should be the one giving the presents.”

“Presents . . .?”

Sebastian laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was his birthday after all. He at least had the right to enjoy how easily he could move his bitch from resistance to desire to complete capitulation. “Then it got even stranger,” he teased as he teased.

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” Sebastian moved swiftly, startling Kurt out of his stupor by spinning him around, pushing the apron aside to hang down his back, exposing his pale torso and caged cock to his master’s inspection. “I thought . . . it might be fun to let you come.”

Kurt’s eyes were still foggy with arousal. He licked his lips and raised his arms to Sebastian’s shoulders, clasping his fingers behind Sebastian’s neck. “Let me come where?” he asked.

Sebastian laughed again, louder this time. Kurt was completely serious and totally delicious. “That’s my perfect bitch!” He tangled the fingers of one hand in the hair on the back of Kurt’s head and pulled while his other hand finally cupped the metal that imprisoned Kurt’s cock. “I meant, it might be fun to let you _come_.” He squeezed the cage, just in case Kurt missed his meaning a second time.

Sudden clarity chased away the clouds in Kurt’s blue eyes. They widened, and his hands dropped to his sides. He pressed back away from Sebastian, against the counter, until the only contact between them was Sebastian’s fingers wrapped around his cage. He stood still and uncertain as a deer facing down a wolf, but the speed of his breathing doubled and Sebastian could feel warm slick dribbling against his palm.

“It really was the strangest thing,” Sebastian said when Kurt didn’t respond. “I was just lying there thinking, it’s been months. And even that was an accident and not exactly fun for you. I couldn’t stop wondering what you’d sound like, after so long, if I let you.”

Kurt was still staring at him like he'd never seen him before. “What . . .” the word cracked in Kurt’s throat and he coughed and tried again. “What’s the catch?”

Sebastian stepped closer, trapping Kurt against the counter while he fingered his heavy balls. “Perfect again, my good bitch,” he said, smiling. “Well I can’t just _let_ you come, can I?”

“Heaven forbid,” Kurt said with a little defiant toss of his head that enchanted Sebastian too much to punish him for.

“I thought I’d give you a challenge. If you accept, and if you succeed, you get to come.”

Kurt’s Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed hard. “ _If_ I accept?”

Sebastian smiled at Kurt’s suspicion. He couldn’t blame him for thinking this was all some kind of elaborate trap. Two years of being Sebastian’s bitch had taught him well. “I’m going to be generous, since it’s my birthday,” he said. “You’re totally free to refuse the challenge. No harm, no foul, no orgasm. We’ll just go back to you worshiping me all day and me teasing you to insanity, as previously planned.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed. “So what’s the challenge?”

“Now see, that . . .” Sebastian wiggled a finger in Kurt’s face, “. . . is the real catch. You don’t get to know what the challenge is until you decide whether or not you want to risk it.”

Watching Kurt struggle with that was everything Sebastian had hoped it would be. Reactions flashed across his face faster than cars on the freeway, and if it made Sebastian dizzy to watch, he could only imagine what it was like to be inside that head.

“What if I accept and fail?” Kurt finally asked, slowly, like he was trying to talk himself out of hoping.

“Oooh. I haven’t really thought about how I’ll punish you for that. Definitely something spectacular." Sebastian rubbed a finger between two of the bars of Kurt’s cage. “Something that includes me whipping this cock until your screaming starts to bore me. Which, since I love torturing you so much, will probably take a very long time.”

Precome spurted over Sebastian’s teasing fingers. His dick’s enthusiatic reaction made Kurt flush red, and his hips jerked sharply, like his body was forcing movement on him, his touch-starved cock chasing sensation against his will.

“And it’s . . . physically possible, right?”

Yet again Sebastian laughed. His bitch was just too adorable to resist.

“Well, theoretically.” Sebastian raised his sticky fingers to Kurt’s mouth and Kurt obediently opened and cleaned them gently with his tongue. “You’re a pretty badass sub. I think you definitely have a shot.”

Kurt sucked at Sebastian’s thumb longer than he needed to, fluttering his eyelashes at Sebastian as he worked.

“Don’t look at me like that, bitch. I’m not backing down. Decide. Are you in or out?”

Kurt released Sebastian’s thumb with a final flick of his tongue and sighed. “Why can’t anything ever be easy with you?” he asked.

“Why? Because you’d hate that. And because if it was easy, how would I know if you really, truly want to come? How would _you_ know if you really truly want to come?”

There was another long silence, while Kurt processed Sebastian’s reasoning and the truth behind it. Wanting to come was Kurt’s default state. But so was wanting to want to come. Kurt knew as well as Sebastian did that his desire for release was relative. And he knew that it was only in the pursuit of an almost impossible task that either of them could be sure that Kurt had reached the point where he truly longed for release more than the continued torture of his master’s control.

Sebastian went back to playing with Kurt’s nipples while he waited for Kurt to decide. Kurt was already breathing hard, so there wasn’t any outward reaction to the stimulation, but Sebastian could see his eyes start to drift into soft-focus again.

“And . . . when you say _come_ . . . ?”

Oh how Sebastian loved winning. He spun Kurt around to face the counter again. The apron still hung down his back but Sebastian was only interested in his dick now. He pressed against the apron and reached around to cup Kurt’s cage in both his hands like a precious treasure. His lips brushed the skin behind Kurt’s ear as he spoke, until Kurt was shaking like a frightened kitten in his arms.

“When I say _come_ , I mean I will take this cage off and touch you, stroke you, suck you if you want.” Sebastian let his voice go deep, a possessive growl that promised so much. “I'll use so much lube it'll slide like water, slick and so hot. I’ll make it last, not teasing, just building it up and easing it back, letting you enjoy it. I’ll play with you as long as you want, tease your nipples, finger your ass. I’ll let you wallow in pleasure like you’ve never felt, until you tell me you’re ready. Then I’ll drop you over that edge, I’ll hold you while you shoot and shoot, all that backed up desire finally exploding, your come surging out hard like you’re never allowed, and then I’ll stop just before it’s too much and let you float down into that incredible relief . . .”

Kurt was whimpering now, humping against Sebastian’s warm hands, lost in the fantasy.

“You pass my challenge, and I’ll give you what you haven’t had in two whole years,” Sebastian murmured. “I’ll give you the thing you can barely remember. A full, complete, pleasurable orgasm. No pain. No last-minute bait and switch. No ruining. Just intense, ecstatic release. So are you in?”

Kurt turned his head back so that Sebastian could see unshed tears glinting in blue eyes that begged him to be sincere. “What do I have to do?” he asked, then moaned as Sebastian squeezed his balls tight.

“Make my breakfast,” Sebastian said, and he let Kurt go and stepped away so fast that Kurt’s legs failed him and he folded down to the floor, only his grip on the counter saving his knees from a bruising fall. He yelped, but Sebastian ignored him as he turned and headed back into the bedroom. “I still expect my breakfast in bed,” he called over his shoulder. “Then we’ll talk.”

He smiled to himself as he settled back in bed for what he expected would be a long wait. Birthdays were awesome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm wine-tasting this weekend so you get this a tad early . . . I hope you all enjoy!

Kurt sat on the floor for a long time. He wasn’t sure how long; he wasn’t even sure he was actually on the floor. In his head he was still standing, Sebastian’s warm, strong arms wrapped around him and Sebastian’s seductive voice whispering impossibilities in his ear. _Suck you. Hold you. Surging hard. No pain. No pain . . ._

His head spun from one possibility to another. Succeeding. Failing. Choosing to fail. And perhaps most frightening of all, choosing to try, putting everything he had into winning. Letting himself hope. Letting himself _want_. And then losing it anyhow because all of Sebastian’s games were rigged against him. Which he loved. And hated. And how was he supposed to know how to feel?

He’d come, in the two years they’d been together. He tried not to keep track of the times – _five –_ he tried not to go over them in his head, holding them like little talismen, but who was he kidding? Five orgasms. One accidental, which he’d paid for with a whipping that had left his balls tender and throbbing for days, the other four intentional on Sebastian’s part. Each of them had involved some pleasure, but also enough pain and humiliation and restraint that on each occasion Kurt had been left foggy and sore and only half-satisfied. The things Sebastian had promised – allowing him the unfettered explosion, ecstasy, and complete relief of true release – Kurt’s breath caught tight in his throat and his eyes filled with tears again. He’d come to believe he would never experience that kind of pleasure again, at least not while he belonged to Sebastian. He’d come to believe that he never wanted to, not really, deep down.

He rubbed away the moisture in his eyes. It was ridiculous, really, crying about an orgasm he might not even get to have. This was what Sebastian _did_ , making him face himself and the things he craved and forcing him to own his choices. This was what Kurt had asked for on the night almost two years ago when he’d walked into the wrong bar and met the right dominant.

He would pass or he would fail. And either way it would be what he wanted. He just had to trust himself. And Sebastian.

He pushed himself up off the floor, pulled the apron over his head – Sebastian had been rubbing his cock all over it after all – and replaced it with another from the drawer where he kept them. Then he picked up the abandoned satsuma and began to peel.

*     *     *

Sebastian was lounging on the bed when Kurt brought the breakfast tray in, looking at something on his phone, naked, with just the thin sheet pulled up to his waist. Kurt had to stop in the doorway for a moment because . . . god, he was gorgeous. And he knew it. His lips were already pulling into that cocksure smirk as he watched Kurt watch him.

“Breakfast in bed?” Sebastian asked with feigned surprise. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Very funny,” Kurt grumbled, but he made himself smile when he said it. It was Sebastian’s birthday, after all, and besides, if Kurt wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wanted that orgasm, he was also far from certain that he didn’t.

“Well don’t just stand there. Get that beautiful ass over here and show me what I’ve got.”

Kurt carried the tray to the bed. It was a beautiful breakfast, if he did say so himself. Cheese blintzes with cherry compote, minted citrus fruit salad, grilled sourdough toast soaked with butter and spread with blackberry preserves from their local farmer’s market, and coffee, steaming hot, strong, and black. Just the way Sebastian liked it. _As black as my heart_ he liked to say, and that shouldn’t be hot but it always was.

Kurt placed the tray carefully over Sebastian’s lap then, when no further command came, climbed onto the bed and sat with his back against the footboard, crossed his legs in a half-lotus, and watched.

Kurt’s body was still buzzing from Sebastian’s touch and Sebastian knew it, of course. His long fingers plucked a section of satsuma from the fruit salad and he raised an eyebrow at Kurt as he slipped it between his lips and sucked it into his mouth.

“C’mere, bitch,” Sebastian said, crooking a finger at Kurt. His green eyes were full of heat and Kurt’s belly fluttered excitement as he shifted onto his knees and crawled up the bed.

 Sebastian picked up another piece of fruit – a tiny section of lime – and ran the cut end over Kurt’s bottom lip. It shouldn’t have been sexy. It should have been silly. But Kurt’s body had been finely tuned to its master’s hand and desire pulled at his balls and stole his breath away.

“Open.”

Kurt’s lips parted and Sebastian pushed the lime segment inside. He left his finger there too, and Kurt nipped at it as his tongue burst the bit of lime. Bright, sour juice bit at his mouth and mingled with the flavor of Sebastian and just a hint of mint. Kurt let his teeth drag gently as Sebastian pulled his finger away.

“How is it?” Sebastian asked, and his voice was throaty and full of promise.

“So good,” Kurt breathed.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

“That’s my good bitch.” Sebastian jerked his head toward the foot of the bed. “Now go sit. You can entertain me while I eat.”

 _Entertain_ turned out to be touching himself at Sebastian’s command – he made Kurt pull and twist his nipples while he enjoyed his blintzes, until Kurt’s self-control was in tatters and he was whimpering freely. And while he finished the fruit salad, every bite as seductive as his first, Sebastian had Kurt work his balls, rolling his testicles with the tips of his fingers, bumping them against each other in his sac. The light touch did nothing to soothe the ever-present ache, and the almost-too-much-but-not-nearly-enough sensation left Kurt dizzy and off balance. So it took him by surprise when Sebastian was suddenly in front of him, so close, pulling Kurt’s fingers away, and he had no idea where the tray had gone but Sebastian’s cock was hard and pressing against Kurt’s cage and that was all that mattered.

“Very nice, bitch. You inspired me.” Sebastian bumped his free dick against Kurt’s trapped one. “Now I want to fuck you.”

“Oh god, thank you,” Kurt said, so very sincerely.

“But first, I think you deserve to know what your challenge is.”

Kurt moaned and tried to pull his brain back from the foggy place it had been headed.

“That’s it,” Sebastian said. He curled fingers around Kurt’s neck and rubbed gently. “So all you have to do is . . . everything you were already planning to do.”

Kurt stared at him.

“You know, everything you normally do on a Saturday. Clean the apartment. Vacuum, dust, mop. Make my lunch and the amazing birthday dinner I’m sure you have planned for me. Come running to serve me anytime I call. Just your normal Saturday.”

Sebastian was grinning now, and if experience didn’t tell Kurt there was a big fucking catch, that grin – like a wolf about to tear his throat open – would have.

“But . . . ?” Kurt prompted, because anything was better than not knowing.

“But today you get one little . . . addition.” Sebastian flipped Kurt’s pillow off the bed to reveal what he’d hidden underneath.

Kurt stared, speechless. It gleamed in the morning light. The red-brown patina of the wood was beautiful. It was a work of wood carver’s art, polished to the highest gloss. Much too lovely, Kurt thought, for an instrument of torture.

“Sebastian . . .”

“Hmmm?” So nonchalant, breezy even, as if he hadn’t just told Kurt he was expected to spend the day – to function, to mop, to _cook_ – in their strictest humbler.

“I . . . can’t.”

“Are you giving up before you even start?”

“I can’t stand up in that.”

Sebastian’s grin widened. “Can’t? Or prefer not to because of the intense pain?”

“You said it was physically possible!”

“I said _theoretically_. For a badass sub. Are you not a badass sub?” Sebastian’s eyes bored into Kurt’s, hot and intense. “You wear this all day, do all your chores, without any complaint, no whining or sighing or little looks like you want to kill me . . . you survive until the I blow out the candles on the gorgeous cake you’re going to bake for me, give me absolute perfection for the next –” he glanced at his phone, “– ten hours or so, and then I’ll give you everything I promised. I’ll make it so good, bitch. Better than you can imagine.”

His voice was so soft and alluring, dangerously gentle. The voice of a demon tempting Kurt to give up his soul.

“Sebastian . . .” Kurt stared down at the humbler. It was impossible. For any sub. He couldn’t do it. No one could. He should give up now, take his punishment, turn this back into just another day of suffering and burning. It was impossible.

Except . . . that evil rogue section of Kurt’s brain, the one he often wished he’d never been born with, the one that responded to any _maybe you can’t_ with an infuriatingly stubborn _well watch me then,_ that part of his brain was already starting to calculate and plan. The stool in the kitchen, a dustbuster, a brush to scrub the floors . . .

Sebastian picked up the humbler and stroked the oh-so-smooth wood with his fingers. Kurt watched them and his belly clenched tight around too many emotions to fully understand.

It would be hard. It would be excruciating. Exhausting. But it wasn’t – _theoretically –_ impossible. And if he succeeded, and earned that orgasm, well, his body might never recover but at least he’d know that he had one hundred percent wanted it.

Sebastian saw his answer as soon as Kurt raised his eyes.

“Yes! There’s my bitch! This is going to be so much fun!”

Kurt allowed himself one rebellious eyebrow quirk before he clasped his hands behind his back, bowed his head, and submitted his will to whatever Sebastian desired.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry you guys!! For some reason this little bit of Sebastian just getting the humbler on gave me fits! This is a short one but I wanted to get it out before I head off for a little mini vacation this weekend. So here it is and next week I'll work hard on the next installment!

“Well that was interesting.”

Kurt managed to summon up a questioning noise. It was the best he could do in his post-fuck haze. Sebastian was still inside him, softening, and he caressed Kurt’s back with the gentlest of fingertips. Each slide along Kurt’s spinal column felt like his master grooming his nervous system, smoothing any sharp edges that his cock hadn’t already eroded.

His lack of verbal skills didn’t seem to bother Sebastian. “Usually it takes me hours of work to get you this meek and obedient,” he said, slipping his dick out of Kurt and sliding a plug in its place. “I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

With Sebastian out and the plug in, Kurt collapsed down onto the bed and pushed a second questioning hum out of his heaving chest.

“If you can drop this fast just because you want that orgasm, maybe you need to be doing it all the time.”

Kurt turned his head to get his face out of the mattress. “You like . . . that I’m a challenge,” he panted.

“Which is why I’m not sure how I feel.”

With a deep breath Kurt shoved himself over onto his back. Sebastian was kneeling next to him on the bed and god, it was just unfair how hot he was. Kurt wanted to find a way to tell Sebastian that he needed this – to be in this place – if he had any chance of surviving Sebastian’s challenge. He needed to submit to more than just the fact of it, he needed to embrace the idea. He needed to crave the suffering he was about to experience. And he needed it now. So he needed to push himself into the place that he usually relied on Sebastian to take him. But with those sharp green eyes staring down at him from the face of the man who owned him and desired him and had just fucked the living daylights out of him, speech seemed even less achievable than it had before. And if the twinkle in those eyes was any indication, Sebastian already knew.

The humbler was still on the bed, on Sebastian’s pillow, so Kurt reached for it and held it out. “Now?” he asked.

Sebastian took the toy but shook his head. “I think you’ve forgotten one little detail. Your balls won’t fit in this thing when you’re wearing the cage.”

Kurt stared at him. He was right, of course. The humbler was heavy and wide and between the cage ring and the way Kurt’s balls tightened whenever he was aroused – which was pretty much always – there was no way he was going to fit into the device. And yes, he’d totally forgotten.

Sebastian grinned and pulled open the drawer in his bedside table. He lifted out the tiny key on a chain and then straddled Kurt’s thighs and let it dangle over his belly, swaying. “That terrified look is very cute on you.”

Of course he was terrified. Sebastian had been letting him out from time to time – to go to a club or when he wanted to decorate Kurt in some way that, usually humiliatingly, called for an erect penis. But this was all day. Ten hours, Sebastian had said. Free of the cage. Hard, soft, somewhere in between. Trying to remember not to unconsciously reach for it. Bumping into things. Rubbing on his apron or against the floor while he scrubbed . . . Kurt whimpered a tiny whine before he could stop himself.

Sebastian was already reaching for the lock, sticking in the key. Kurt closed his eyes as the cage came apart and was pulled away, ring separated and removed, and for a moment his cock and balls flopped against his leg – a sensation that always surprised him these days – then his dick realized it was free and surged erect so quickly that Kurt groaned at the stretch.

“Assume the position,” Sebastian said with a grin.

Kurt stifled a stab of disappointment that Sebastian wasn’t going to touch him and rolled over onto his hands and knees. His cock hung hard between his legs. Sebastian reached around and fisted it, like milking a cow. Kurt tried not to think about that. He concentrated on enjoying the hard, fast strokes that seemed designed to bring him to the brink as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“I want those balls nice and tight before I stretch them,” Sebastian said as he worked Kurt over. “Maximum pain. Because I’m a sadist, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kurt gasped out. He tried to stay still, he did, but it was just too good, and too rare, and soon he was arching and humping and when Sebastian held his hand still Kurt kept fucking it, even though it was dry and only a tease. He rocked into Sebastian’s fist as his pleasure built, moaning in high, sharp bursts.

“Such a needy bitch,” Sebastian crooned. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” Kurt breathed.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, forcing certainty into his voice. “Tonight. After I win.” He pulled his dick out of Sebastian’s hand and held still, fingers clenched in the sheets as he forced back the orgasm that was dancing a hair’s breadth out of reach.

“Ooh. Confidence. I like it,” Sebastian said. He grabbed Kurt’s balls and pulled hard, until Kurt gasped with the pain and folded back into child’s pose. He felt the polished wood close around his flesh – warm, it always seemed warm no matter where it had been kept – and heard the tiny squeak of the nuts as Sebastian tightened the device into place behind his thighs.

As long as he lay still, curled up tight, the humbler was barely more than an annoyance. But the whole point of this day was that lying still was not going to be an option. The more Kurt straightened his legs the harder and more agonizing the pull on his trapped balls would be. Kurt’s incredibly stupid dick gave a surge at the thought. Of course it did.

“I like it,” Sebastian said, smacking Kurt’s ass. Kurt lurched forward before he could stop himself, then yelped as the tug on his balls sent pain burrowing deep into his gut. “Now if I were you I’d get to work. So much to do, so little time.” He hopped off the bed with an ease Kurt could only envy, from his current position. “I’ll be extra nice, since it’s my birthday, and take the tray back to the kitchen for you.”

“Thank you,” Kurt murmured. He watched as Sebastian picked up the tray and sauntered toward the door, flaunting his freedom of movement. He turned back and gave Kurt his most wicked grin – the one that made Kurt’s insides twist with desire and his dick pump out precome like drippy faucet.

“Good luck getting off the bed!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello patient, faithful readers! Chapter 4! And you may have noticed I decided this is probably going to come in at 6. Two more chapters, hopefully, unless my plans change as they often do. Thank you all for reading and commenting!!

Getting off the bed wasn’t as hard as Kurt had expected it to be. Humiliating, yes, but maybe that was for the best. Better to accept now that he’d be waddling like a stooped, arthritic penguin all day. Sebastian knew how much pride Kurt took in moving gracefully through his submission. He also knew how much Kurt relied on the outward beauty to elevate the dark and twisty relationship he had with his desires. So of course part of this ultimate challenge was to take that away. And probably make Kurt admit at some point that this was all exactly what he’d asked for in the first place. Which it was.

Kurt breathed deep and stretched his arms out along the bed, through second position with perfect ballet hands, just to ease the sting of that particular line of thought. Then he planted those hands in the mattress and shoved himself backwards.

The bed part was easy. The sheet under his knees carried him smoothly back toward the footboard. The twist to get his hands on it was harder, but with a few ungainly rolls he had a good grip on the wood. Then he just had to hold his fetal position while he lowered himself to the floor. Fortunately, Sebastian’s love of predicament bondage was good for Kurt’s upper body strength and the bed held his knees in position as he slid carefully down.

Much more problematical was the stimulating drag of his totally free cockhead down the mattress, and the dark stripe of precome it left in its wake. Kurt rested on his knees until the throbbing in his dick and the need in his gut dialed back from critical to manageable, and tried not to think about how the fuck he was going to change the sheets in his current predicament. A much more important question was how the fuck he was going to be able to stand up, because there was no way he was going to get through this whole day on his knees.

Yoga breath. Right. He was already in child’s pose, after all. Kurt tried to let all his tension leak out into the floor. Exhale stress, inhale acceptance. Invoke the things he’d wordlessly communicated to Sebastian on the bed. Choose to submit – to all of it. Breathe.

And stand.

That, at least, was graceful. A smooth yoga move, with minimal painful yelping. He pulled his body into a ball and straightened his legs until he was hanging from the waist, hands brushing the floor. That was the easy part. Hanging head down Kurt was folded so tight that there was actually less pull on his scrotum than there had been when he was on the floor. But as soon as he started to lift his chest, pain gathered in a knot where the humbler gripped his flesh and that knot swelled the more he tried to straighten. Inhale, exhale, release the tension and pull up a little higher. It didn’t help that his cock was hard as a rock and pushing upward against the drag on his balls. Kurt felt like his whole body was trapped in a battle between the two and he already knew that he was going to be the ultimate loser.

Eventually he found a point of balance – the knife’s edge before the pain in his balls was completely unbearable. It left him bent forward like the slave of some medieval despot, forced to shuffle everywhere in an obsequious half-bow. Sebastian was going to love it.

A few more cleansing breaths and Kurt was actually starting to feel optimistic. He could move around in his bow, let himself hang when it got too much for his back, and between the two, with an occasional curl into a ball on the floor for relief,  he just might be able to get everything done today that he needed to. It was going to hurt like hell, of course, but he was pretty sure he remembered adolescent fantasies about that medieval despot slave thing, so all he had to do was concentrate on that. He was a gorgeous harem boy, twisted into cruel restraints for his master’s pleasure. Which was a totally different fantasy but honestly, this wasn’t the time to quibble about details. This was the time to hobble to the kitchen and start mixing up the batter for the classic Lady Baltimore cake he’d been planning for weeks.

He managed one step. His toes came down in a puddle of wet.

“Fuck!”

The word slipped out before he could stop it. Kurt froze and held his breath, waiting for Sebastian to call him on his complaint, but no reprimand came so he could only hope his exclamation hadn’t been as loud as it had sounded to him. Which was the one saving grace of the whole situation.

His cock was streaming like a faucet. Precome hung in a long shining string all the way to the floor, where it collected in a pool that seemed impossibly large. He hadn’t even felt himself dripping.

“Fuck,” he said again, under his breath this time. With a sigh he reversed his earlier journey, folding down toward the floor, bending his knees oh so carefully until he settled into his prostrate pose once again. Then he started to lick.

This was a serious fucking problem. If his newly-free dick was going to leak this enthusiastically all day – and he knew full well that it was – there was no way he was going to be able to accomplish everything he needed to do while trapped in the humbler _and_ constantly dropping down to lick up his mess. He wasn’t allowed to touch himself, and while his apron would soak up some of it, he was only allowed to wear the apron while he was cooking. So it was either give up now or . . . no, Kurt knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it, but he knew. He gave the floor a last swipe of his tongue then yoga-breathed his way back up onto his feet. This time he kept one hand cupped under the head of his cock. Not touching – of course – but close enough to catch the precome. It was probably cheating. He could only hope the sight of him in his half-bow would delight the medieval despot in the living room enough that he’d overlook one little transgression.

Carefully catching his mess, trying not to think about the spectacle he was making, Kurt shuffled out of the bedroom to find Sebastian and beg for yet another humiliation.

His majesty was reclining on the couch fiddling with his phone and Kurt gave himself a mental slap for the disrespectful nickname as he quickly slurped the slick from the palm of his hand. If this was going to work he had to sell it. He crossed his hands behind his bent back and made his painful way to the couch.

“Well look at you.” Sebastian turned to watch Kurt’s approach. “You look like you could run a marathon. And I thought this was going to be hard.”

Kurt kept his head bowed and forced his eyebrows not to move even a millimeter toward a flippant arch. He kept up his tiny steps, each one tugging sharp heat through his balls, until he stood next to the coffee table where Sebastian’s feet rested. Then without a word he folded himself through his awkward sun salutation and down onto the floor. He was just a slave, he told himself. Prostrate at his master’s feet. Forced to beg for any favor, just like he’d imagined in so many teenaged masturbatory fantasies. Literally living the dream.

“And to what do I owe this display?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt took a deep breath and double-checked to make sure no hidden sarcasm could creep into his voice. “Am I allowed to ask for things?”

“You can always ask, bitch. Whether I grant is another matter.”

“Would you please consider letting me wear the plug?”

There was silence, then, “You’re already wearing the plug.”

It took a minute for Kurt to understand what Sebastian meant. With all the conflicting sensations and challenges he’d totally forgotten the little plug in his ass.

“I’m sorry,” he said meekly. Just a slave, after all. “I meant, would you let me wear the urethral plug?”

Kurt still had his face in the floor but he could hear Sebastian pull his feet off the coffee table and sit up straighter. “You want me to plug your dick?”

“Please.”

“Why?” It was more of a demand than a question.

Kurt knew what Sebastian wanted. And he’d gone too far to back out now. “This is turning me on so much –”

“What is?”

Kurt swallowed. “The pain, and your dominance, and being free after so long in the cage . . . I’m leaking like Niagara Falls and if I have to keep cleaning it up . . . I won’t have any chance to succeed.” He made it a statement. No whining or complaining. Simple, clear, fact.

“So are you giving up then?”

“No.” Kurt surprised himself by not even needing to consider it. “If you say no, then I’ll try anyhow. I’ll do my best. But just . . .” He pushed himself up from the floor. Kneeling up put more pressure on his balls but he forced himself not to wince. He looked Sebastian in the eye, just a slave, begging a favor, “. . . please.”

Sebastian’s eyes were dark and sparkling and Kurt could see the wheels turning in his head as he contemplated his options. After a moment Sebastian stood up and walked right out of the room.

Kurt waited, still upright, letting his balls pay the price for his display.

When Sebastian returned he had the case containing their long urethral plug in one hand and their heavy black crop in the other. He sat down on the couch and placed both items on the stone coffee table in front of him.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said in a dangerous purr. “Ten strokes on your cockhead. You don’t move, you don’t make a single sound. And I’ll let you wear the plug today.”

Kurt wasn’t in any position to argue. “Thank you,” he breathed.

“Kneel up higher.”

The drag against his balls was intense but again, not in a position to argue. Kurt stretched himself as straight as he could.

“Hands on your thighs.”

Kurt suppressed a groan as he obeyed. From that position the tiniest finger twitch would be obvious. As Sebastian well knew.

Sebastian picked up the crop and snapped it in the air. “This is already my best birthday ever,” he said with a grin, “and we’re just getting started.”

At least he made it quick. He whipped the crop across Kurt’s cockhead, landing it with all the force he could muster right over the slit. Droplets of precome spattered Kurt’s chest and pain shattered every nerve in his body but he held still, held onto the memory of craving this, so long ago in those teenage fantasies when just the thought of having his cock whipped could make him come so hard it hurt. He held his breath and pressed his hands down into his thighs so his fingers couldn’t move even if they wanted to. He closed his throat so no sound could escape. But he kept his eyes open, so he couldn’t be surprised, and watched each torturous blow. When the tenth fell he forced himself to stay still as a statue, waiting to be released.

“Very good, bitch,” Sebastian finally said. “I will allow you to wear the plug today.”

Kurt’s breath shuddered as he let it out and his “Thank you,” cracked somewhere in the middle and his dick felt like it was about to fall off yet still spouted precome that tickled across the burning head.

Kurt expected more torment as Sebastian toyed with him, fucking the plug in and out of his aching and needy dick, but miracle of miracles Sebastian slid the plug home without any fanfare at all. He fastened the glans ring to keep it in place and then reclined back into his original position, feet up on the coffee table and phone in his hand.

It was entirely possible, a tiny voice inside Kurt suggested, that Sebastian had taken pity on him because he was pleased and impressed at how well Kurt was doing and felt he deserved a break. Just the idea filled Kurt with a warm emotion that he didn’t want to examine too closely. Instead he prostrated himself back down to the floor. “Thank you,” he said again, and then, because it was true, “Master.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Notice that I've upped the chapter numbers by one. This chapter needed to end before I thought it would . . . I haven't internal monologued this hard since Assent! I hope you guys like it. :)

It was the longest and most painful day of Kurt’s life. Or at least the longest and most painful he could remember as he moved from task to task with single-minded determination. Step by tiny step he ticked items off his mental checklist, not daring to think beyond his current task, not letting himself dwell on the impossibility of what he was trying to achieve.

The elaborate meal he’d planned for Sebastian’s birthday turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Kurt had cleaned the apartment pretty well during the week, so he’d have time on Saturday to chop and mix and bake. He went through the motions of cleaning, for Sebastian’s sake, but for the most part he was saved from actual scrubbing and scouring. And once he had redesigned the kitchen using stools and chairs to lower everything, he could move from mixer to cutting board and back again mostly on his knees. It wasn’t fun. It hurt like the fires of hell. But slowly the pile of “done” tasks on his mental list began to outnumber the “undone.”

Much harder was finding the right mindset to get him through the day. The pain was everywhere; intense and unceasing. That wasn’t particularly new. Sebastian was a sadist. He’d raised the infliction of pain to an art form. And Kurt had become a master of enduring. He’d learned to seek out and savor the subtle flavors of pleasure hidden within each act of torment. But pain also greased the slide into subspace, where contentment muffled the sensations in his body and the sensations pushed him farther away in a feedback loop of aching perfection. And therein lay Kurt’s dilemma. The cramping in his back and the agony in his balls kept trying to pull him onto the express train to a place in his head where there wasn’t any room for crumb coats or diced onions or shining bathroom chrome. And Kurt wanted to go there. Years of training and his basic nature called him there, like an extra kinky siren song. But if he was going to succeed today he needed to be present and aware, ticking off his list one item at a time and remembering to keep his hands off his swinging, dragging dick. Which was no easy task. Every movement he made brought stimulation, from within and without; more casual, random touch than his cock had experienced in his two years with Sebastian. And then there was the challenge of keeping his moans and gasps pitched more toward _thank you for torturing me_ than _fuck I think I’m going to die._

So alongside the knife’s edge he had to walk physically to keep himself poised between the pain in his balls and the need to move, Kurt had to achieve a completely different balance in his head. He had to stay aware enough to control his body and accomplish his tasks but let himself drift just enough to ease the worst of the pain. It was exhausting, and probably just as futile mentally as it was physically. He tried to use the fantasies he’d recalled earlier: he was that medieval despot’s body slave, that sadistic sultan’s tortured harem boy. But in the end he found that it was best when he simply let himself be Sebastian’s bitch, twisted by his own desires, and his master’s pleasure in them.

Sebastian himself didn’t make it any easier. It seemed like every time Kurt found that point of balance Sebastian would appear with his hard body that aroused every sense Kurt had.  His teasing, punishing fingers that casually inflicted both pleasure and pain. And worst of all, his whispered words that seduced Kurt toward the fall he longed for. Like everything else he was made to endure that endless day, Kurt both craved and feared Sebastian’s touch.

The only way to survive was to tunnel his vision and move through the day like a beast of burden, plodding step by step and not allowing himself to think about an end. He existed for each moment individually without a thought for the moment before or the one to come.  He changed the bed and set the table. He vacuumed the floor and frosted the cake and tossed the salad. He oh-so-carefully lifted the prime rib from the oven, tented it, and set a timer for its rest. He . . .

Kurt surveyed the kitchen. He . . . was done. The scent of thyme and red wine and roasted meat filled the apartment. China glittered on the birthday table. A gorgeous, three-layer Lady Baltimore cake graced the counter on a vintage crystal cake stand. And for the next twenty minutes he had absolutely nothing to do.

He fell to the floor with a thud and hugged his knees tight to his chest. The fog he’d been fighting all day pushed heavier around him and he longed to give in and fall into its warmth and he had nothing to do, no task to focus on, to help him hold back. But he couldn’t let go, not really. In twenty minutes he had to carve and serve his master the dinner that had taken every ounce of effort Kurt had to give. His master, Sebastian, who was lounging on the couch again like in the beginning.

He wasn’t conscious of making any choice, but he found himself naked, leaving his apron behind on the floor as he crawled carefully, push-pulling his tortured balls with every inch he gained, a painful, eternal journey until he rounded the sofa and fell prostrate next to the coffee table. He wasn’t conscious of making any choice, but he folded himself with his back to Sebastian, his aching testicles presented like an offering on a dark and shining mahogany plate.

“Well, what have we here?”

Sebastian’s voice was like cool water flowing through Kurt’s tired brain.

Kurt was still trying to figure out the answer to that question when another came.  “Don’t you have anything to do right now?”

“The meat needs to rest,” Kurt managed to breath into the floorboards.

Sebastian hummed a little sound, the kind you make when you taste something delicious. It made Kurt’s cock twitch.  “How are those balls feeling?”

“They hurt.”

“How much?”

Like hell hounds had been chewing on them all day. Like they’d been dipped in gasoline and set on fire. Like a toddler giant had been using them for marbles. “A lot,” was all Kurt could make his mouth reply.

Sebastian laughed. His fingertips brushed over Kurt’s scrotum in a barely-there touch, hardly more than a breath of air. A sob clenched in Kurt’s chest but he forced it into a deep, slow moan as it slipped through his throat. No whining. No complaining.

“I still have the crop. Should I give them a little more punishment before we eat?”

Kurt’s guts recoiled but before he could figure out what to say Sebastian’s hand reached between his legs and wrapped around his dick. He thumbed ever so gently over the head, jostling the plug and setting off shocks of sensation deep, deep inside.

“Or maybe I should edge you a few times, just to keep it fun.”

“Yes,” Kurt murmured.

“Yes to which one?” Sebastian asked.

“Anything you want. Please.”

The soft laugh teased through Kurt’s head again and he wanted more of it, he wanted touch and voice and orders to follow. Sebastian’s desires were his anchor when he was adrift.

“Turn around, bitch.”

It hurt to move but Kurt didn’t care. Simple obedience soothed the way nothing else could. He shuffled on his hands and knees and when he finally worked his way around he lifted his head to find Sebastian grinning at him with flashing teeth and an open fly.

Before he could stop himself, Kurt whined. He hadn’t expected Sebastian’s cock, but now that it confronted him he knew that there was nothing in the world he needed more. “Oh god,” he moaned. “Please.”

“Look what you did to me, bitch,” Sebastian said. “Watching you got me all turned on. What are we going to do about that?”

“Please,” was all Kurt could say. He knew where home was, and fulfillment, and the relief of temporary oblivion.

“Get to it. If you can make me come before your timer goes off I’ll consider not whipping your balls before we eat.”

Kurt wasn’t going to wait to be told twice. Stretching for Sebastian’s dick hurt his balls but he didn’t care. With Sebastian’s dick in his mouth and Sebastian’s scent in his head, everything came together. All the sensations and emotions he’d been juggling all day condensed, like a film run in reverse, like shattered glass re-knitting itself into a delicate and priceless objet d’art, into Kurt, serving.

He wanted to linger but he didn’t dare. He’d been ordered to beat the timer and he existed now as pure obedience. His own hunger for Sebastian’s body didn’t matter, only his master’s command. He used every trick in his arsenal and soon, too soon, Sebastian was tensing, one hand falling to hold Kurt down on his dick as he spurted and Kurt moaned release from deep down in his core. Too soon, and just in time. The timer blared before he managed a single breath. Kurt’s dick was hard and his throat burned but serving his purpose had refocused his determination. When Sebastian released him he let his head loll to the side and stared up at his master. Green eyes darkened, sparkled, and one hand reached to caress Kurt’s cheek.

“That was inspired,” Sebastian said. “Fast, but inspired.”

Kurt smiled up at him and waited to be told what to do next.

“You did beat the timer,” Sebastian said. “So I suppose you’d better serve me my birthday dinner, bitch.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's super long as Bitch chapters go. So rejoice! And once again with the purple prose. But hey, there are only so many ways to describe an orgasm. And you guys seem to like the purple prose . . . ;)

Kurt knelt beside Sebastian as he ate. He hadn’t planned it that way, and Sebastian hadn’t demanded it. He’d set the table for two. And while a part of him would have liked to tell himself he knelt because there was no way to sit comfortably in the humbler, he was deep enough now that most of him could admit that he simply couldn’t bear to be that far away from his master. Not now, when he could finally let himself relax into his pain and Sebastian’s flavor in his mouth. Kneeling beside his master, with Sebastian’s murmurs of appreciation in his ears and Sebastian’s hand casually dropping to touch his head or neck, Kurt was content in the way only extremity could make him. The pain in his body was like music. The dynamics of it were sometimes harmonious, sometimes cacophonous. It crescendoed when he rose to clear the table once Sebastian had finished, louder than it should have been, but now Kurt’s end was in sight.

The cake. The cake that had hovered at the end of his tunnel of agony all through the long day. Serve the cake and he could rest. Kurt almost – almost – whined a complaint when a hand wrapped around his arm and held him back from his prize. Sebastian tugged him around in the wrong direction, away from the cake, toward himself. The pain music was still too loud and when Sebastian held out his free hand Kurt stared at the four white tablets on his palm. Words seemed as inaccessible as stars, but he found the reach to capture two.

“What’s that?”

From Sebastian’s palm to his eyes felt like a journey of a thousand miles but Kurt forced his own eyes to take it. His mind couldn’t process what he saw in Sebastian’s gaze, but it quieted the pain, even before Sebastian spoke.

“Motrin. A double dose. You’re going to need it if you plan to have an orgasm tonight.”

Kurt stared, and tried to understand.

“You did it. It’s all over. You won.”

And like he’d suddenly been struck deaf, the world around and inside Kurt plunged into total silence.

He could see Sebastian’s mouth moving, and feel the floor under his knees as Sebastian lowered him gently down. Vibrations in his throat told him he made a noise when his balls were freed from the humbler and fell into the position Kurt had forgotten was normal. He leaned more heavily than he had to as Sebastian half-carried him to the couch and wished he could be all carried. But it was okay because Sebastian squeezed onto the sofa with him and held him tight.

Kurt didn’t close his eyes. If he closed his eyes he might fade away entirely. He reached for one of Sebastian’s hands and clung to it until the sound of Sebastian’s voice began to seep through the wool padding in his head.

“. . . of you. You know how jealous I am. The only pain you get to experience is the pain I give you.”

“What are you . . . talking about?” Kurt breathed against Sebastian’s chest.

“There you are,” Sebastian said. “Nothing important.” He shifted gently under Kurt so that Kurt’s head tilted back and their eyes met. “Too much?” Sebastian asked lightly.

“No,” Kurt said. The words came so easily now; all his straining had dissolved. “I was okay. I just forgot.”

“Forgot?”

“About coming. I forgot the point. I was in a place, then you said I won and suddenly I was in a different place and I couldn’t . . . crap, this isn’t making any sense.” He broke away from Sebastian’s gaze and hid his face in Sebastian’s neck, breathing in his scent.

“Well luckily I speak you, so I understand completely.”

Kurt heard himself laugh, although he didn’t know how that could be possible.

“Serious question though?” Sebastian said.

“Hmm?”

“Do you really want to come?”

Kurt took his time to answer, for Sebastian’s sake, because he knew that from Sebastian’s point of view it _was_ a serious question. But Kurt knew from the pain in his body and the giddiness in his head and the way his muscles trembled from his hours of exertion.

“I really, really do.”

“We can wait until tomorrow. Those balls . . . it’ll hurt less tomorrow.”

Kurt twisted and pushed himself up onto an elbow so he could fully face Sebastian. He had to suppress a groan as his balls bounced against his leg. “It’s going to hurt no matter what. I want it to hurt. The pain will help me remember what I did for it. And that helps me remember that I want it.”

Sebastian smiled and ran a finger along Kurt’s jaw. “Your brain is amazing.”

“Yes it is. Now give me what you promised.”

In response, Sebastian reached behind them and produced the four Motrin from the coffee table. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

“There’s pain, and then there’s pain,” Sebastian said. “And the endorphins are going to wear off eventually. If you want your reward, be a good bitch and take the Motrin. And then you can shut up and let me take care of you until it kicks in.”

Kurt took the Motrin.

Kurt’s clarity came and went as Sebastian took care of him. And for once, just once, he didn’t worry about paying attention. He let himself be however he was at any given moment. He didn’t listen for commands or monitor himself to make sure he was following all the rules. For the first time in forever, he let go. It was an even stranger sensation than the weirdly restricted flopping of his uncaged, plugged penis. It was like floating and falling at the same time. But Kurt kept his eyes on Sebastian – always his anchor – and let his head go silent.

Sebastian eased them up and off the couch and walked backward, pulling Kurt toward the bathroom. He spread a towel over the cold porcelain toilet lid and lowered Kurt down. His touch was as soft as flower petals as he slipped Kurt’s balls forward out of the way but dull pain left Kurt breathless and whining.

“Shhh. I’m going to help you with that.”

The sound of water filling the tub was too loud, but it faded when Sebastian knelt between Kurt’s legs and cupped his still-soft cock. Kurt wanted to say that he wasn’t ready, it was too soon, too fast, but then Sebastian’s nimble fingers freed the ring that held the plug in Kurt’s urethra.

“Deep breath,” Sebastian said from the floor.

Kurt took one, then let it out on a low moan as Sebastian slid the steel rod out of his dick, which lengthened as the plug came free, like it wanted it back. After hours of internal stimulation, Kurt could understand how it felt. His cock was suddenly empty and lighter than it had been before, despite the throbbing pressure of his growing erection.

But he didn’t have too much time to think about it. Sebastian laid the plug aside then stood and pulled Kurt to his feet as well. He reached behind Kurt and gently worked the other plug out of his ass. His care was exaggerated – the plug was far from anything that would have challenged Kurt – but Kurt appreciated his soothing touch. He was trying hard not to think too much about the fact that he was about to have an orgasm while also trying to savor every moment of the buildup to that orgasm. After his exhausting day he felt like his brain might fracture without Sebastian’s guiding example. Nothing special going on. Just his master doing exactly what he wanted to do.

And that was true. Despite his question before, Sebastian only ever did exactly as he wished. Kurt could have worn that humbler for a month – but if Sebastian didn’t want to give him an orgasm he’d be back in the cage right now. And despite his confident answer, Kurt's true conviction came from Sebastian himself. Kurt's only option was to obey, and trust that if Sebastian believed it was time for him to come, then so it was. Their whole existence together was built on the foundation of Kurt’s obedience. Sometimes obedience was a challenge. Sometimes, like now, it was as simple as breathing. But either way, it was always freedom.

Still, Kurt balked when Sebastian drew him toward the bath, where steam rose from the surface of the water. His stretched, twisted, burning balls cried out for ice. The thought of immersing them in hot water pulled Kurt up short and he shook his head but before he could speak Sebastian smiled and cupped his cheek.

“Hey. Trust me.”

In Kurt’s present state it was as good as an order. Resistance disappeared and Sebastian maneuvered both of them carefully into the antique clawfoot and down to recline together in chest-deep water. Kurt tensed as his balls dipped into the heat but the water didn’t add any pain. Instead the heat was like magic; it seeped under Kurt’s skin, into his muscles, and washed away the industrial spring tension that coiled throughout Kurt’s body. He let himself sigh out pleasure and relief as he sank back against Sebastian’s chest.

“Better?” Sebastian asked, wrapping his arms around to hold Kurt against him.

“God, that’s good.”

“Oh really?” Sebastian prompted. His lips brushed Kurt’s ear as he spoke.

“Yes. You were right.”

“As I always am. I do have some experience in these matters, after all.”

Kurt wanted to make a smart reply, but Sebastian’s hands began to move across his chest and speaking became exponentially less important to him. Sebastian must have found some body wash or oil when Kurt wasn’t looking because his fingers slipped across Kurt’s skin like silk, and it was heaven, it was better than heaven. After the day Kurt had endured, to float in Sebastian’s arms, to be touched like he was rare and precious, warm and caressed and soothed, was more than pleasure. It was _enough_. He could have been content if this was his reward. It would have been worth the effort and pain. As Kurt thought it, he knew it was true. He wanted to come, truly, but he _needed_ this.

At least he knew it was true until Sebastian’s left hand found Kurt’s nipple and his right moved down to play with the head of Kurt’s cock and then there wasn’t any room in Kurt’s head for silly self analysis.

He didn’t know how long they lounged in the tub. He knew that Sebastian refreshed the hot water at least once. He knew that he recoiled when Sebastian’s fingers moved over his balls, but Sebastian whispered “Trust me” again in his ear and spread Kurt’s legs wider and massaged until all the aching was gone and Kurt’s balls floated up, loose and buoyant. And most of all, Kurt knew that this time he would be allowed, in the end. He didn’t have to hold back, and he stretched and thrust his cock against Sebastian’s slick hands with a freedom he’d never before been allowed. He luxuriated in the control, for a while, but eventually his body accepted its true desires and he lay still in the water and let Sebastian lead him. Every touch was gentle perfection, every inch of the march toward release thoroughly explored. Sebastian’s hands had long ago memorized Kurt’s body, down to the last nerve ending, and now they danced to their own music in all his secret places. Sebastian played Kurt’s flesh with virtuoso skill, until Kurt gave up wondering how long it would take or how intense it would feel and just let Sebastian have his way with him. And when he did, it seemed that every sensation quadrupled. Every brush of a caress poured the sweetest ache imaginable into Kurt’s pores. He shouldn’t have been surprised, of course. Letting Sebastian do exactly what he wanted was always the right answer.

“Oh god, it’s so good. I forgot how good it is,” he heard himself say as Sebastian stroked him.

“I do this to you all the time,” Sebastian said.

“But it’s different when you’re doing it to torture me. I can never forget that you’re going to stop.”

“Which is exactly what you want.”

“I know.”

Sebastian fisted Kurt’s cock a little tighter, just enough to push a wave of pleasure up and through his body that left him shuddering.

“Oh god . . .”

“Who?” Sebastian teased. He stroked again and Kurt’s body twisted through the pleasure once more.

“Hmmm. _Sebastian_.” Saying it made Kurt’s belly swoop like a roller coaster or a first kiss.

“Do you want me to stop this time?” Sebastian’s fist set up a rhythm, faster than he’d gone so far, and he pinched at Kurt’s nipples lazily, one, then the other.

“No,” Kurt said, and he meant it. Sebastian’s hand was just this side of a tease, just tight and fast enough to be purposeful. Kurt wanted more and he knew was allowed to take it. He could thrust and push himself toward the ecstatic edge. But permission wasn’t enough. He wanted it to come from Sebastian. He wanted it to be given.

“Are you sure?” Sebastian teased. “The bitch I met in Rumpelstiltskin that night was dying to be denied.”

“I want it. Just this once. Just once.”

Sebastian’s fist moved a little faster. “Are you ready for it?”

“Please, just this once. Please let me.” Kurt chanted.

“You don’t have to beg me. I already gave you permission.”

And then, suddenly, it changed. Suddenly, it was real. Kurt was going to come. He was moments away. He waited for the voice, that eternal voice that always said no, hold me back, deny me, control me. But for the first time ever that voice was silent. And Kurt knew with absolutely certainty that he wanted this. He knew it not because of what he’d put himself through to get it, but simply because Sebastian wanted it. And what Sebastian wanted, Kurt wanted.

He babbled then, to the room, to Sebastian, to the explosion waiting to go off inside his body. “Fuck, oh god, fuck I’m close . . . I’m so close, I’m going to come . . . I'm coming, oh god, I love you, _fuuuuuck_ . . .”

It slammed into his chest like a speeding Greyhound bus, then shattered into a thousand shards of stained glass, reflecting colors Kurt never knew existed. They pierced him to the core, leaving dragging trails of pleasure in their wake, it was unbearable, and essential, and then his balls convulsed and the intensity of his ejaculation swept Kurt’s brain clean of everything except the power of his body to create pleasure. For once free from constraint, his balls kept going, spasm after full, free spasm wrenched Kurt and they were terrible and magnificent and thank god someone was holding him up because otherwise he would have sunk beneath the surface and drowned.

Eventually it ended, as all things do. Kurt’s body trembled despite the hot water that surrounded him and his breath was harsh in his ears. Someone – Sebastian – held him tight and Kurt whispered a hoarse “Thank you,” and tucked his head up under Sebastian’s chin like a child desperate for comfort. Sebastian was silent, and Kurt had just enough time to understand that that was strange before his body finally simply gave up and pulled him down into the mist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's cliche. But sometimes cliches are good things. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up way too late because I wanted to get this to you guys! I hope you like it. I hope it makes sense. Sometimes I can't tell . . .

Kurt’s body was dead weight against Sebastian’s in the rapidly-cooling and now thoroughly disgusting water. He was possibly asleep. Somehow Sebastian was going to have to get him up, rinsed, dried and into bed. It was a daunting prospect. Which was why Sebastian was putting it off, choosing instead to function as pillow and embracing blanket for the time being.

And no, he was most definitely not thinking about _that_.

He was a responsible dominant with a job to do. So he twisted one foot around Kurt’s leg and flipped the drain open with his toes.

Either the noise or gravity caused Kurt to stir and lift his head from Sebastian’s chest. His blue eyes were hazy and far away and his voice barely out-competed the sound of sucking water.

“Why?”

A good fucking question. Sebastian wasn’t sure which _why_ Kurt might mean, so he went for the obvious.

“Because you’re too blissed out to realize how revolted you’d be if you saw the water right now. So as your incredibly responsible dominant, I have to do it for you. Come on, there’s probably still enough hot for a quick rinse.”

Kurt made a louder noise, and clung, when Sebastian tried to heave them upward. “More hot later,” he murmured. “Hold me.”

Sebastian groaned. “Of course I get the submissive who needs more aftercare from an orgasm than from torture.” He wrapped his arms tighter around Kurt’s chest.

“Should have known,” Kurt said.

Kurt was right, of course. And that wasn’t the only thing about Kurt that Sebastian apparently didn’t know. Which he totally wasn’t thinking about.

“Cold,” Kurt complained.

“Yes, well that would be because the water’s gone. If you want to get warm, Sleeping Beauty, you’re going to have to let me get you up.”

Kurt only sighed, but Sebastian could hear the resignation in it. This time when he heaved, Kurt went with him. Sebastian moved as fast as he could, because Kurt was suddenly shivering. He got them upright and cranked up the water again.

Kurt started when the shower spray hit his back, but he quickly relaxed against Sebastian under the flow. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck and nuzzled at the skin there. “This isn’t so bad,” he said.

“A complete sentence!” Sebastian said as he rotated them so at least some of the hot spray hit his own cold skin. “You must be coming back to me.”

“I never left.”

Kurt conveniently raised his head and smiled at Sebastian and Sebastian searched his eyes for . . . doubt? Questions? Concern? Anything that might hint that Kurt was thinking about, or even remembered, that thing that Sebastian most definitely was _not_ thinking about. But Kurt looked like he always did in the afterglow of subspace. Damn him.

“Did you enjoy your orgasm?” Sebastian asked.

“That’s a complicated question.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Kurt smiled again. “Maybe it is for you,” he said as he tilted his head back so the hot water ran through his hair. His long neck stretched until the muscles corded tight under his skin and Sebastian had to bite back the impulse to . . . bite.

“I’m so fucking glad I’m not submissive.”

Kurt pulled his head upright again, still clinging to Sebastian’s shoulders. Rivulets of water meandered down his cheeks and he said, “You wouldn’t last a minute,” and his eyes were so soft and unguarded, full of something new, something that looked a whole awful lot like – _no, not thinking about that –_ but Sebastian felt himself begin to tremble – _what the fuck?_ – as they held each other’s gaze for what felt like forever but wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. It was seconds. Seconds of a look that seared Sebastian to the core, then Kurt nuzzled into Sebastian’s neck with a contented sigh. And it was new, different from the ways that Kurt usually clung to Sebastian. It felt simple and clean as the water that cascaded over them. It felt . . . affectionate. A silly word. A silly idea. Anticlimactic for sure. But when he thought it Sebastian felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

It could almost be . . .

“When did we get in the shower?”

Kurt looked up at him, normal Kurt, the Kurt Sebastian had seen at the end of every intense scene for the past two years. Part of him still far away but part of him waking back up to the here and now. Sebastian switched mental gears automatically. _Deal now. Think about that later._

“Hey, you. We’re just rinsing off. Then I’m going to put you to bed.”

As he maneuvered Kurt from shower to towel to bedroom to bed, Sebastian tried not to look too closely or listen too carefully. Mostly he failed, but mostly Kurt was still too deep in his own head to notice. He was still loose and sleepy-eyed when Sebastian tucked the comforter around him and pressed a glass of water into his hands.

“How are you feeling?” Sebastian asked.

“Strange. Hungry.”

“Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

Kurt nodded. Sebastian walked slowly out of the room. He made very, very sure not to let it look like he was fleeing. But when he got to the kitchen he slumped onto the floor, his head in his hands, and finally thought about _it._

_Oh god, I love you, fuuuck . . ._

Fuck.

Kurt didn’t mean it. Kurt did mean it. He had no idea he’d said it. He knew he’d said it and he was waiting for Sebastian’s reaction. Options were turbo-speed square-dancing in Sebastian’s brain and this was not a thing he was used to. He was Sebastian Smythe, dominant extraordinaire. He knew full well not to take anything anyone said in the throes of orgasm at face value. Certainly not when those throes came after two years of everything he’d put Kurt through. People enduring excruciating pain or pleasure babbled; it was a way to cope. But if a dominant was doing his job right – and Sebastian was _always_ doing his job right – then the sub’s conscious brain was far away and he had no idea what kind of inanities were coming out of his mouth.

But fuck, if Kurt did remember, if it had slipped out without his conscious approval, Kurt, who had so few things that he could control . . . would he be horrified at letting it slip? And if he was would Sebastian saying something make everything worse? Or would not saying anything leave a huge, I-love-you-shaped cavern gaping between them? And did Sebastian’s feelings about any of this even matter? Could he be selfish for once and say what he longed to say instead of weighing every potential consequence of even the smallest action?

He loved Kurt. He loved him and Kurt had spoken those words, Kurt had looked at him in the shower with a kind of adoration Sebastian had never seen before, not even in those moments when Kurt fell to his knees and worshipped at Sebastian’s feet. It had never been like that. Of course he’d been mostly in la-la land and had no idea what he was doing and _fuck_ , Sebastian was the worst dom ever. His sub needed him in the bedroom and here he was crumpled in a heap mooning over maybes like the lovesick heroine of some nauseating Victorian novel. All he needed was some fog and a craggy peak to make the image complete.

Sebastian closed his eyes and forced himself to focus. The fact, the only pertinent fact, was that Kurt had just had his first complete, fully-pleasurable release in almost two years. They were about to go through things they’d never been through together. Kurt was going to drop, that was inevitable, and probably drop hard. He was going to have to deal with the loss of years of pressure and hormones and carefully built-up submissive energy. He was going to have to face starting the long climb to where he’d been just hours ago all over again, from square one. He was going to have to come to terms with the fact that in a moment of weakness (and Sebastian knew full well that was how Kurt would see it) he’d thrown away everything else that he valued about himself and his dynamic with Sebastian, for a few seconds of pleasure. And he was going to go through all that because that was what Sebastian had wanted. Sebastian had led Kurt to that orgasm and done everything but force him to choose it. Sebastian was the one who’d wanted to challenge Kurt in this new way and now Sebastian was the one who needed to shut the fuck up and help him deal. And the last thing Kurt needed as he dealt was Sebastian demanding explanations of things Kurt might not even remember saying.

With the tiniest of groans Sebastian climbed to his feet and snagged the empty plate Kurt had set for himself from the table.

When he returned to the bedroom, Kurt was still dutifully drinking his water, and Sebastian could see that he was almost fully back in the here and now. He set the bed tray – the same one Kurt had used to bring him breakfast that morning – over Kurt’s lap and sat.

“Wow,” Kurt said.

“I just heated up leftovers.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kurt nodded at the china, silver, and crystal champagne glasses. “I see you found the Dom.”

“And the champagne too,” Sebastian said as he picked up his glass and took a – well-deserved, he thought – swig.

Kurt rolled his eyes but he smiled at the same time.

They sat in silence for a while, Kurt eating, and Sebastian trying not to obviously search Kurt’s eyes for an answer, while also trying to determine if Kurt was searching his. Not an easy feat with Kurt Hummel, master of self-control. When the food was eaten and the tray put away, Sebastian didn’t have any more answers than he’d started with. He realized he was going to have to accept that.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” Kurt asked. He’d downed half his glass of champagne and was looking soft-eyed again, this time for an entirely different reason.

“Your orgasm?”

“Your birthday, silly.”

“It was. It was everything.” Sebastian heard a fervency in his voice that he hadn’t planned, and from the way Kurt’s eyes narrowed, he heard it too. “Was it everything _you_ thought it would be?” he asked before Kurt could say anything.

“Your birthday?” Kurt asked with a grin.

“Your orgasm. Silly.”

Kurt’s smile faded and he took another sip before he spoke. “You know. Submissive. Orgasm. There’s always going be mixed feelings.”

“You said that before.”

“Did I?”

Sebastian nodded. “In the shower. Don’t you remember?”

Kurt shrugged, which was not an answer. “It was powerful. It was pleasure. And pain. It was maybe the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. It wasn’t like when I used to come, before. It was more. And less.”

“None of that makes any sense to me.”

“Because you’re not submissive. Silly. And thank god for that.”

Sebastian drained his glass, took Kurt’s from him and set both of them on the bedside table. Then he straddled Kurt’s legs and leaned in to kiss him. Gently at first, a goodnight peck was all he’d planned, but then Kurt’s mouth opened under his and, quick as whiplash, urgency took over. Sebastian didn’t know where it came from. He wasn’t hard, his dick was barely stirring, but he stroked his tongue against Kurt’s until Kurt was making the tiny whimpers Sebastian loved so much.

“You taste so good,” Kurt murmured when Sebastian finally freed his mouth to nibble at his neck. He tangled his fingers in Sebastian’s hair and, fuck it, Sebastian shoved the covers aside and kissed his way down Kurt’s chest, down his belly, down . . .

“Sebastian!”

He looked up. Kurt was staring down at him and for the first time since he’d won the challenge he looked conflicted, unsure. “You said. You promised . . .”

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“Relief. I thought I could . . . at least until tomorrow . . .”

Sebastian could see how hard it was for Kurt, stumbling around words, asking not to be edged. He smiled. “Trust me.”

Kurt’s cock was already starting to swell. Sebastian licked around the head then took it in his mouth, sliding down as far as he could. Kurt was too big to take all the way; Sebastian didn’t have anywhere near the deep-throating skills that required. But he wrapped his hand around the neglected part of the shaft and gently teased everything his tongue could reach.

Above him Kurt moaned and hummed but he seemed to understand what Sebastian hadn’t quite said. There was no tension in his thighs, no holding back. His fingers stroked Sebastian’s hair in rhythm with Sebastian’s tongue stroking Kurt’s flesh and together they rose and fell, ever so gently, rocking Kurt closer and closer to the edge.

He didn’t speak. When he came this time, it was silently, and perfectly still, polar opposite of his first dramatic explosion. His release streamed across Sebastian’s tongue and, once it finished, Kurt breathed a sigh of pure relief.

Sebastian didn't even let himself think about being disappointed. He slid up the bed and wrapped his arms around Kurt’s limp form. “Better?” he whispered.

“Different,” Kurt whispered back. “Good.” His head was dead weight on Sebastian’s chest but Sebastian managed to both switch off the lamp and accept that his frustrating, oppositional, gorgeous bitch was probably never going to give him exactly what he wanted.

And there was the Victorian heroine back again. But he had one thing on that lovesick heroine, Sebastian thought as he pulled Kurt tighter against his body. He had his hero, right here in his arms. He had Kurt’s trust, which given the depth and breadth of what they did was almost as good as having his love. He had Kurt’s attention and his single-minded focus. He had Kurt’s body and his mind. And as for his heart, well, he had the words, _I love you_. They’d come out of Kurt’s mouth and even if Kurt had no memory of them somewhere, deep inside, they must be true. Maybe someday Kurt would let the subconscious become conscious. But even if he never did, Sebastian would know.

His last thought, as he drifted off to sleep, was that it didn’t really matter whether Kurt loved him or not, because tomorrow Kurt was going to murder him. They’d completely forgotten to eat his beautiful cake.


End file.
